Bound by a Melody
by Furuba Foreva
Summary: Momiji begins his path towards becoming a renowned violinist. Still left with the heartache of his unrequited love for Tohru, will he find feelings for his new introverted stage partner who shares his passion for music? MomijixOC ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter One: A Fresh Perspective

**A/N: Hey! So this is my first fanfic; well, the first chapter of it, anyway. I just had this little plot bunny - heh...bunnies...bad pun...oh well! - hopping around my head about Momiji performing around in small places to become a violinist, and on the way he meets another musician (aka a sweet young lady) with her own inhibitions that throughout the story they build upon together. They'll tour together, growing their reputation, going through the awkwardness of a budding relationship. I just really felt that poor, handsome young Momiji didn't get the ending he so rightfully deserved at the end of the manga. His story ended with sadness and a small amount of hope. Hope for something that _I_ hope to help him achieve with this fanfic. ^.^ So anyways, I hope you enjoy! Yes, this is a MomijixOC story, but you won't meet the OC until the third chapter or something, because I wanted to add some good old Sohma family humor to start this off. D Well, the first chapter (which is more of a prologue) doesn't have much humor, but there will most likely be a lot more in the next. And now I'm babbling. :P**

**As a final note, this story will be T-rated pretty solidly. And maybe M, solely for language because of some more disagreeable characters later on. But anyways, for now, enjoy!**

**Chapter One**

_With this invitation, **Momiji Sohma**_

_is cordially invited to attend the matrimonial uniting of this gorgeous couple:_

_**Ayame Sohma **and** Mine Kuramae**_

_on **Saturday, May 26****th**_

_at the **Sohma Lake House**_

The flamboyantly decorated invitation which perfectly reflected the personality of its sender included a photograph of the said couple in a very affectionate position, with both of their arms wrapped tightly around one another. Mine, the woman, with two dark braids and small-framed glasses was shown flushing a sweet pink as her silver-haired fiance kissed her on the cheek.

Momiji's soft brown gaze lingered on the captured display, carefully placing it on his desk with the saddest smile. He walked out of his room and into the kitchen, where his guardian Hatori sat with a cup of tea, seemingly lost in a pile of paperwork. Momiji noticed an invitation almost identical to his left at the edge of the table, going over to sit at that edge where there were fewer papers strewn about.

"Ha'ri, are you going to Ayame's wedding?" he asked, picking up Hatori's invitation. He noticed a side-note at its bottom-right corner scrawled '_We do hope to see you there, Tori-san!'_; a tiny, cartoon drawing of Ayame with a wide grin and a 'thumbs up' just below it. This extra comment was absent from Momiji's invitation, evidently because Hatori was a much closer friend of Ayame's.

The older man briefly glanced up from his papers to reply. "Yes, of course. I am supposed to be the best man as well as the officiant. Ayame insisted that I get a temporary ordination so that I could conduct the ceremony."

"Oh. Hmmm..." Momiji said, looking down at the invitation again. "It's just that..." Hatori looked up again after Momiji's falter. "Well, you're always going after him when he's 'being a nuisance' to tell him why he shouldn't do certain things. And your personalities just clash so much, it makes me wonder if he really annoys you and you're just too nice to say anything."

Momiji only ever spoke with Ayame a couple of times when he used to buy clothing from his self-entitled lingerie store during his girlish phase. Aside from his erotic costumes, Ayame also had a selection of regular but still custom-made clothes for Momiji to pick and choose from. They got along very well, as they were both incredibly boisterous chatterboxes who shared a love of clothing (each to their own degree), however they rarely had any interaction outside of the shop. The only other times Momiji had been around Ayame was when he would come to visit Hatori.

Now Hatori suddenly had a seldom-seen smile on his face, but it didn't last long before he regained his serious composure. "Ayame is a very...persistent individual. He has many traits that make him exasperating, like his loudness, his self-centered directness, and the mere fact that he runs a 'men's romance' clothing store. But he always goes after what he wants, and actually sometimes what he wants can be very simple and noble things. His approach may be entirely out of proportion, but in the end his intentions are meaningful. For example, his two-year engagement with Mine? The reason they waited so long was because Ayame wanted to plan it out to make it the 'greatest event in Sohma family history'. Shigure tells me it's going to be a very colourful affair." He paused for a bit, and Momiji almost thought that he'd returned to his paperwork. Instead, he added, "And I'm going because...Ayame has been one of my two closest friends for as long as I can remember. In a way, his and Shigure's antics have brought some much-needed humour in my life. While at the heart the sadness of the curse was always there, at the surface I could almost forget, being so busy trying to keep those two out of trouble."

Momiji smiled. "That's a very interesting explanation." Hatori chuckled.

"Also, if I don't go, I'll have to face further exasperation from Ayame's melodramatic broken heart." Momiji laughed, and Hatori finally returned to his papers with his usual serious expression. "And you, Momiji?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he flipped through a set of stapled pages. "Are you going to the wedding?"

Momiji suddenly took on a pensive look. "Yes..."

"You don't seem as excited as I expected," Hatori remarked.

"I dunno, I'm sure it'll be great. Ayame's a fun guy. And I heard he's inviting Tohru and Kyo, and I'd really like to see Tohru again..." Momiji's voice trailed off.

"But...?"

"But..." Momiji slouched in his chair with an uncharacteristic sigh of defeat. "I still haven't found my sweetheart yet."

Approximately two or three years ago, after the Sohma family curse that had burdened them for so many generations was finally lifted, each member of the former Zodiac had decided on new, better futures for themselves. Momiji remembered himself sitting at a table with his best friend Haru and Haru's girlfriend Rin, as they all shared their thoughts on what they would do now that the curse had been broken. Momiji had complained that Kyo's own decision of travelling with Tohru around the country for his martial arts training was selfish of him (and, less significantly, how he'd have liked to pinch him). But he admitted to the couple that if he was going to find himself a girlfriend of his own, or a 'sweetheart' as he'd put it, he would look to others. He vowed to find a girl like Tohru to call his own, to be happy with for the rest of their lives. Now, it's been three years since then, and even while having had all that freedom in his last year of high school, he hadn't found anyone special in particular.

Hatori studied Momiji's face. The young man who he'd partially brought up since the day that he'd erased his mother's memories was very downcast. His mouth was turned downwards into an unnatural frown, and it wasn't his usual pout he had when something mildly disappointed him. No, this was a frown that once again reminded Hatori of those unfortunate times. It tugged at the older man's heart to see the energetic, optimistic child he always knew turn into a serious, solemn young man.

"It looks as though something deeper seems to be bothering you, Momiji," Hatori commented, mentally throwing all thoughts about his papers out the window. Momiji sighed.

"I don't know. Ever since my own curse was broken I just felt so alone. The connection I had with all of you, the only real family I ever had - in a way, it seemed to all just...disappear. Of course, you were all still there. I would always be living in the Sohma estate, because despite the curse being lifted there was no way I could return to my own family. Still, I couldn't help feeling lonely, being one of the first to be set free. I had so much freedom, and yet I didn't know what to do with it." Momiji sighed, cradling his chin in his palms with his arms propped up on the table. The young man's brown eyes were dark with hopelessness.

"You didn't send out any application to a university last year. I know you're not sure as to what you should do, but why didn't you come to me sooner? Did you have the slightest idea in mind?"

Momiji hid his face in his hands with the tiniest smile. "There are very few people that I've told about it, but..." He lifted his head and stared up at the ceiling as if he were looking beyond it, far up into the sky, his eyes gleaming thoughtfully. "I want to become a violinist."

"Ah..." Hatori tapped his chin. "I always thought it was just a hobby, you never really mentioned it much. You used to take lessons, correct?" Momiji's eyes darkened once more, his gaze falling to the table.

"Father made me quit," he said with an oddly bitter tone. "Momo started getting curious about me, so she wanted take lessons from the same teacher – and of course we can't have that, now can we?" He rubbed his hands over his face and shook out his blonde waves. "Although - " his voice suddenly brightened " - I'm happy that Momo wants to know more about me. I'm not allowed to see her or Mother might have a memory relapse. Still, it's nice to know that my little sister notices me and is taking an interest in the things I like."

"Do you still need a teacher?" Hatori asked. Momiji grimaced.

"His lessons were really helpful, and there's still so much to learn. But I guess I'll have to go down this path alone." Momiji hopped up to fix himself a bowl of cereal, as his stomach was scolding him for taking so long to feed it. Once he sat down, munching on the crunchy flakes, he swallowed and twirled his spoon around in his fingers. "I just need a place to start..."

"The most famous of people had to start out somewhere small before making their way to the top. They didn't become famous overnight," Hatori told him. "Are you sure you don't want to apply for a music course in university?"

"No..." Momiji replied, his voice trailing off. He ran a hand through his hair. "I feel that I want to...let the music guide me. Formal education seems too bland and structured, like there's no life or inspiration in it. Maybe it's foolish of me to think that, and I could probably go far in university if I tried. But I want to start on my future _now_. There's nothing left for me to wish for but my future, and since that's the case, I want to make a name for myself as quickly as possible."

"Why don't you advertise your performance for a restaurant or some other popular gathering place? Or look for signs and ads that request a musician around the area? Little by little, you'll be able to reach your ultimate goal." Momiji considered Hatori's advice as he thoughtfully chewed on his cereal. Then he beamed.

"That sounds good. Thank you, Ha'ri!" The blonde young man leaped to his feet. "I was never sure I would ever get the chance to start on my dreams. The curse always held me back, and although Akito didn't seem to like me very much, she never would have let me leave her side. But I have the freedom now, and the ability to do something with it!" He raced into his room to fetch his violin, leaving Hatori chuckling lightly, sipping his tea. Soon the faint bowing of the stringed instrument passionately resonated from the former rabbit's room.

No matter what happened, regardless of the amount of time it would take, Momiji would definitely reach his goal. He was young, had plenty of optimism and charisma, and he was very determined. His talents and his personality would definitely bring him far.

_ If only he didn't have to do it alone,_ Hatori thought grimly.

**A/N: I had to throw Ayame in there at the beginning. After Momiji and Haru, he's my favourite. :3**

**And that's it for the first chapter. Please remember to review! :)**


	2. Chapter Two: A Wedding and a Rose

**A/N: FINALLY I finished up chapter two. I promised you that I would update (or, at least, I think I did...) so I did! Sorry I was so slow, I was just impatient to get started on actually introducing my OC already, so I dragged this along quite a bit. If it seems like I could have done better, I apologize, because, again, this was kinda dragged out and more of a final filler chapter. Sorry if one part in particular might not make sense, but if you catch that thing that's a little off, it's a bit of an indirect hint about the OC. So have fun with that...**

**And thank you to all of my kind reviewers! I really, really appreciate your comments on chapter one and hope to receive more on this chapter, if at all possible.**

**Sorry I didn't update sooner, but here it is!**

_**Disclaimer: (This counts for chapter one as well, I just forgot...) All characters and references to Fruits Basket belong solely to their author, Natsuki Takaya. I do not own any of them except my OCs, which won't be any reference to the actual Fruits Basket whatsoever, just that I mashed them up with the Furuba fandom.**_

**Chapter Two**

Finally the day had arrived for Ayame and Mine's wedding. Momiji and Hatori were busy getting ready as they waited for Hatori's girlfriend Mayuko Shiraki to join them.

"Ha'ri, aren't we running a bit late?" Momiji asked as he slipped on one of his shoes, hopping on one foot.

"Yes, well, that was the plan..." Momiji took on a look of utter confusion.

"Huh?"

"Ah, Mayuko has come." Momiji glanced up to see Hatori's tall, short-haired girlfriend striding up to the entrance, Hatori sliding the door open to join her outside. It was thankful that outsiders like Mayuko now had a lot more freedom to visit the Sohma estate without any repercussions from Akito. Perhaps more so than the others, the family head was putting a lot of time and effort into molding her new self after being released from the spirit of the zodiac's god. Momiji knew that she wished to someday be truly forgiven for all of her wrongdoings, which was why Hatori and all of the others were now allowed to have visitors.

"Am I too early?" the high school teacher asked slyly. "My car's clock is a little fast."

"No, you're just on time," Hatori replied with a smile. Momiji was still confused.

"On time? But it's late! Won't Ayame be worried?" Mayuko grinned.

"Hopefully," she replied innocently. Now the former rabbit understood.

"Wait...we're purposely going to the wedding late? Ha'ri, I didn't expect you to pull a joke like that."

"It was Mayuko's idea," Hatori told him. Momiji turned to Mayuko.

"Ayame and I are on good terms friendship-wise," she said. "But he's just so full of himself, I thought it'd be fun to make him a little anxious on his special day. Just to get a little reaction out of him." The younger individual understood the joke of it, but he wasn't so certain that Mayuko would be getting the reaction she expected.

"Wouldn't Ayame bug you all the more if we arrived late? He _is _'very persistent', to use Ha'ri's words." The woman suddenly froze, a sweat-drop sliding off her forehead. They all became eerily silent as the tension and realization nearly reduced them to icicles.

"HATORI-" she fumbled, tugging at her sleeves with almost the force to rip them off.

"Alright, everyone in the car." The former dragon's voice remained relatively calm, although he did recognize the importance of hastiness. They all bolted across the path to the gates of the estate, bustling into Hatori's vehicle. As they seated themselves inside, buckling their seat belts, Hatori deftly handled his car out of park and onto the road.

As predicted by Momiji, Ayame did make quite a fuss when the small group finally arrived at the lake house hours later.

"_Tori-saaaaaaaan!_" he whined, rushing over to them and tugging at the man's sleeve like an upset child. "Why, Tori-san; why must you fall into such distasteful habits? Tardiness is not becoming of you – no, it most certainly is not! Why must you do this to meeee?" He stamped his foot, continuing with his dramatic act of a distraught little boy. Hatori slowly closed his eyes, as if he would be able to shut out his friend's high-pitched wails. When he opened them again, he found he had no choice but to admit the truth.

"In fact, it was Mayuko's idea to be late," he admitted in his calm, monotone voice, his eyes betraying no amusement or guilt as a vein on his girlfriend's forehead seemed to pop. Ayame immediately paused mid-rant, taking a second to process the renewed information, and then simply slid in front of where Mayuko stood at Hatori's side to redirect his scolding.

"Mayu-chan, why would you do such a thing?" he wailed, swatting his hands at her sleeve. He barely made any impact on her arm as he did so. "I thought we were friends! You know how important this day is to me! And Tori-san plays two very important roles in this day; Mayu-chan, why are you so selfish?"

"Hatori-!"

"Now don't you go dragging Tori-san into this! He would have been on time, I'm sure, if you hadn't held him back! Waah!" Momiji decided to part from the three adults with all of their sobbing and anger and guilt. But, just as he turned he let out an 'Oof!', bumping into two approaching people.

"Oh hello, Momitchi-kun." It was Shigure, dressed in a suit that he probably borrowed from Hatori, his usual seemingly innocent smile dancing on his lips. Latched onto his arm was Akito, their former god, wearing a very feminine kimono that Momiji was still unaccustomed to seeing on her. Her hair was slightly longer now after three years, just gracing her shoulders. She regarded the young man with a polite nod and a small, almost peaceful smile, something else that took getting used to.

"Hi Shigure. Akito," Momiji replied, returning their greeting with a warm smile of his own. He remembered to give Akito a little bow, as she was still the head of the family even without her choking control from the past.

"Ah, you've finally arrived with Hatori and...oh, is that Mayu-chan that Ayame is yelling at?" There was now a gleam of mischief in the thirty-year-old's brown eyes. "I knew Haa-san would bring her. Oh, this is good! Do you know why Aaya's upset with her?"

"Yeah, she decided it would be funny to come late and make Ayame impatient." The gleam in Shigure's eyes seemed to intensify.

"My, how little she knows. Ironic for a teacher, isn't it?" The former dog giggled. "Come, Akito. I want to get a better look at Mayu-chan's reaction." Shigure lightly dragged Akito with him over to the scene with a very giddy expression. As Akito was being pulled away, she slightly turned her head to look back at Momiji.

"See you at the reception," she said, waving shyly. Momiji smiled at her, waving back.

Momiji could still hear the adults' conversation as Shigure joined them as he walked to the area of the ceremony.

"Aaya, my sweet, is Mayu-chan bothering you?" The tension that re-sparked in Mayuko could be felt even from a distance.

"SHIGURE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING COMING OVER HERE?" she screeched.

"Aw, not so loud Mayu-chan. My ears have been wearing out in my old age, and I'm sure you must be tired of speaking after doing it for so many years."

"I SHOULD SAY THE SAME FOR YOU!"

"Shigure, don't criticize her," Hatori cut in blankly.

"Oh, Gure-san, it's horrible!" Ayame cried. "She manipulated our dear selfless Tori-san into arriving late for my wedding just to spite me!"

"Mayu-chan, you're so cold!" Shigure cried with him. Ayame was now clutching his other side, Akito shaking her head at him with a roll of her eyes.

"Ayame, you sound like more of a fretful bride-to-be from the way you act," Hatori commented.

"But Tori-san, I thought that you of all people would understand how much importance a wedding is for a groom, not only the bride!"

The banter continued on like that, and Momiji shook his head while laughing.

It was actually a pleasantly sunny day, the warm light kissing the young man's skin. The sky was a bright, vivid blue, not a single white cloud smeared over it to disrupt its beautiful clarity. Momiji sucked in a breath of fresh air that smelled of the nearby beach, smiling blissfully as he stopped and simply stood there, relaxing his body and allowing himself to be swept away by the moment. It was too good to have lasted very long, for just then the sound of his name broke him out of his peaceful state.

"Ah, Momiji-kun!"

Momiji's heart stopped.

He slowly turned, and as he did, he saw her. Her soft brown hair tied at the sides in yellow bands, her bangs hanging just above her eyebrows and those kind brown eyes. She was wearing a pastel yellow dress, flowing to her knees in fancy ripples, lace-trim all around its hem and straps, all accentuating her innocence and modest beauty with such perfection. Momiji so wanted to hold her, to keep her in his arms forever and never let anyone else possess her true affections. That feeling – it was still there, after so long. Momiji doubted it would ever fade from his heart. He'd criticized Kyo for feeling this way, for wanting to keep this precious girl all to himself, but in truth, he too wanted to be selfish. If he could have, he most definitely would have. These emotions all welling up inside of him, that burning desire...

All which the ex-rabbit masked with a cheerful grin and an equally enthusiastic greeting.

"Tohru!" he exclaimed excitedly. It shouldn't have been possible for the sweet girl, bless her, to be smiling even wider than before. Momiji avoided embracing her, not on account of old habits (which, even then had rarely stopped him) but because he feared that his tightly-bottled emotions would pour out. _She's not yours, _he reminded himself. _And you can't ever have her. That's just the way things turned out._

For her peace of mind, he would smile and laugh as he had done his entire life. He wouldn't show any implications that inside he was suffering, for the selfless girl would no doubt fret over herself because of it. Momiji did not want to be the break in this girl's happiness.

"Are you the maid of honour?" he asked, bouncing on his feet. He'd taken a look around at the rest of the crowd and noticed that no one else (except, of course, the bride, who was getting ready in her temporary guestroom meanwhile) was wearing quite so exclusive clothing. There were three other ladies wearing similar gowns as one another, all in pastel yellow, but, again, not as exquisite as Tohru's.

"Oh, yes," Tohru replied sheepishly, clutching the sides of her dress. "I'm really quite honoured that Mine-san picked me to be her maid of honour, but I'm not so sure I deserve the title." Her smile faltered a little. Then, suddenly, a hand grasped the top of her head from behind. Glancing up, the already minimal light in Momiji's eyes diminished completely.

"Of course you deserve it," said an awkwardly gentle voice. It was Kyo. The very man that Momiji's love had so willingly accompanied on his path. The man who had taken away the former rabbit's true happiness and left him alone during these painfully slow handful of years. Kyo was standing there now, so comfortably close to his lover, and her wholehearted acceptance of him was so clear and without doubt as she gazed up at him with such affection. Momiji couldn't help thinking enviously that it should have been him; that that privilege should have belonged to him. _And yet, at the same time it _shouldn't_._

"Oh, I'm not so sure..." Tohru's face flushed. "But thank you, Kyo-kun." The orange-haired man hugged her from behind, and she rested her head back on his chest in happy assent.

"It's nothing." Momiji felt so out of place beside the couple, an iron hand tightly grasping around his heart. It was almost as though Tohru had forgotten that he was there now that Kyo had come up. He decided that he didn't want to see anymore than he had to.

Feeling depressed, the blonde murmured a "See you at the reception" with a fake smile before walking away, head hung low. Tohru lifted her head a bit, her lips pursed in concern, but Momiji had already left.

The former rabbit found himself walking down the flower-covered aisle, casually glancing around for a place to sit. The entire area was decorated to the very last speck of dust. Bright colours of pink, red, gold, and white blinded Momiji. There were balloons, banners, flowers, umbrellas, you name it.

Through all of the colours, Momiji spotted the familiar white-and-black head of his friend Haru. Haru's arm was sprawled over the back of the chair next to him, where, of course, sat Rin. Momiji made his way over to the couple, seating himself at the edge of the row by the aisle.

"Hey Haru," he said quietly, a hint of dejection in his voice. Haru slowly turned his head to face his friend. The ex-ox blinked, and with that single action his expression immediately turned into one of concern.

"Momiji, you're here. But what's wrong?" he asked. Rin, mildly curious, now turned to face him as well. The blonde sighed. He knew he couldn't lie to Haru, so he decided to tell him the truth.

"I just feel lonely again, that's all," he admitted casually. Haru stared at him unblinkingly.

"You saw Tohru in her maid of honour dress, didn't you." It was more of a statement than a question. Momiji's cheeks turned a very pale shade of pink.

"Yes, I did, but that's not the only thing. Seeing how happy Kyo makes her...I can't help but feel jealous of him. And I don't like this feeling; jealousy is an ugly emotion. I wonder if I'll ever be happy again."

Rin suddenly jerked her head up, her deep, large eyes serious. "You can't say things like that. You mustn't say things like that. The curse isn't a burden for you anymore, which means that you don't need an overly-accepting person like that girl to make you happy. You will find someone that will love you freely, and you in turn will have the freedom to love them back. It'll be easier for you than it would have been for me, if I didn't have Haru. A lot easier. So don't say things like that, please."

Both Momiji and Haru listened intently to the former horse's words, Haru smiling and kissing her on the cheek affectionately.

"Rin, that was so kind of you to say to Momiji..." Rin quivered with irritation mingled with embarrassment.

"You don't have to be proud of me, I was just telling him how it is!" she yelled defensively, fighting down the blush rising in her cheeks. Haru simply smiled at her, causing her continued struggle against the red spiking in her face.

Momiji watched the one-sided quarrel with some amusement. He understood the depth of what Isuzu had bluntly suggested to him, and he appreciated it. Perhaps she was right. Maybe he would find someone, although the circumstances of where he might meet such a person stymied him. Still, he kept her advice at the back of his mind. It did ease his worries to some extent.

By this time, everyone had gathered into the area where the ceremony would be taking place. The adults who had been bickering by Hatori's car earlier had finally made their way back to the larger group, Ayame and his wedding party attendants dutifully assuming their positions at the front.

With Hatori as the best man, Ayame had also asked Shigure (of course) to be one of the groomsmen along with his younger brother Yuki and their mutual friend Kakeru Manabe. Yuki had agreed to be a groomsmen for his brother because one of the few things he could understand about him was his dedication to the people he loved. Taking in the fact that his older brother was devoting his loyalties to his beloved with this event, Yuki accepted his position as a close witness.

And Kakeru, as Momiji understood, was the vice president of the student council in high school when Yuki was leader. He had apparently affiliated himself with Ayame over e-mail since hitting it off when the two had met. Also, it could be that Ayame decided that a friend of Yuki's was a friend of his, so that could also be part of why he'd asked the young man to join the wedding party as well.

It was humorous to watch the five men standing there together, each displaying a different emotion on their face than the others. Hatori was still the ever-epitome of stoic. Shigure looked as though he might be in deep thought but was probably just bored. Kakeru looked impatient, loudly tapping his foot while earning a sharp elbow-jab in his side from Yuki each time he became too noisy. Kakeru also seemed to be exchanging looks with his gentle-faced girlfriend in the third row, whom he'd invited to the wedding as his date.

Yuki was busy keeping one eye on his friend and the other on Ayame. Strangely enough, however, the long-haired groom looked peaceful and patient. Momiji assumed that Yuki wanted to ensure that his older brother remained that way, but it didn't seem as though he'd be causing any trouble at that moment. He was waiting so politely for Mine's turn to walk down the aisle, everyone expected him to burst out and carry his wife-to-be down the aisle himself. It was just so unnatural.

Momiji studied Ayame for a while. The groom was clad in a regular black tuxedo, a long white overcoat, and instead of a normal tie he had a pale pink bow-tie wrapped around his collar. On his feet were white dress shoes tied up with pale pink ribbons to match with his bow. But the most striking feature in Ayame's outfit was the rose in his coat pocket.

For some odd reason, Momiji especially fixated on that rose. Its petals looked soft and a luscious, crimson red. It ominously drew him in, as though it was beckoning to the blonde. He shuddered a little bit, a false sensation of the flower's scent wafting towards him. The typically chivalrous flower was an odd comfort to the single man, while on the other hand it creeped him out a bit.

Slightly panicked, Momiji decided to watch the bridesmaids as they made their way past. They were mostly made up of women he didn't recognize – probably Mine's closest friends and/or relatives that Ayame might know. When finally Tohru came down the aisle, Momiji let out a chuckle as she tripped up over the carpet. Kyo glared at him from the other side of the aisle, grasping his girlfriend's hand to steady her. Momiji smirked at him, though inside his pain flared.

"I suggest you tie the knot yourself with Tohru soon," he whispered as soon as the girl was out of ear-shot. "She may live with you now, but you never know when someone might snatch her up behind your back." Momiji grinned innocently at Kyo's scowl.

"Why you-!"

"Relax," Momiji cut him off, his face turning serious. "You'll always have the advantage when it comes to Tohru. I don't think that I or anyone else can do anything about that." _That's what I envy about you, _he wanted to add. The short-tempered man still regarded him suspiciously with his crossed arms and narrowed eyes, but his shoulders relaxed a little.

Momiji stole another glance at Tohru once more, but the flash of that red rose from before caught his attention again. He felt a little frustrated, although he suddenly had an interesting idea. He glanced between Tohru and the rose, then stared at Tohru a little bit. _What if Tohru had hair of that colour...? _he wondered curiously. _I usually think that red is more of a sober colour, but that particular shade...it's interesting._ However, when he did picture Tohru with that colour, he frowned a little in disappointment. _It doesn't suit her. She's beautiful in the simpler sense._

A new image popped into his head. He felt a little caught up in his imagination. _If I were to __meet a woman with red hair...I wonder what she'd be like._ Momiji shook himself out of his thoughts. _I think Hatori told me once that Ayame has a strange hypnotic way of doing things. Maybe his rose is just another one of his tricks,_ he reasoned.

Thankfully, at last it was the moment for the ceremony to begin. The bride's father stepped forward from the back of the aisle to guide her to her groom, the appropriate music blaring in the background. Mine was the perfect image of a princess, her white dress tight and strapless at her sweetheart top before puffing out like an old ball gown below her waist. Layers upon layers of silk sparkled in the sunlight, slightly weighing the petite woman down, though she maintained a straight posture with each step in her glittering white high heels. Her veil was designed with the same material, three layers of the transparent fabric coming down to her waist, each one shorter than the bottom and delicately trimmed with lace. She accessorized with a pair of smooth white gloves reaching up to her elbows, her hair in its usual braids, tied together with white ribbons and beads. The entire ensemble was complete with a diamond rhinestone tiara holding her veil in place at the top of her head.

Momiji glanced at Ayame again, who's golden eyes held such deep affection, captivated by his bride's beauty. He was finally growing impatient for his lover to join him. Yuki glanced at him as well, smiling at Ayame's rare, quiet form of expressed emotion. He was relieved that at the moment he didn't have to endure much embarrassment from his older brother's behaviour. It probably wouldn't last, though.

When Mine arrived at her place beside Ayame, they shared a loving gaze that drew up another pang of loneliness in Momiji's chest. He held it in, respectfully turning his attention to Hatori. Hatori had stepped in to assume his role as officiant.

"Family and friends of this special couple, we are gathered here today to honour their willingness to be joined in the bonds of holy matrimony." With those words to start, the ceremony proceeded smoothly. Ayame and Mine remained calm and sincere throughout, and their touching, self-written vows to one another moved the female portion of the crowd to tears (except for Rin, who simply stirred slightly in her seat). Momiji looked at Tohru, who was crying openly, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. He smiled at her reassuringly, and she smiled back gratefully.

Ayame's sudden outburst startled the blonde man out of his daze. Hatori had apparently concluded the ceremony with the well-known phrase of "You may now kiss the bride", to which Ayame exclaimed:

"Well, it's certainly about time!" He laughed airily, catching his new wife around the waist and dipping her over to plant a very passionate kiss on her lips. Everyone applauded the scene, the women sobbing loudly in joy. Shigure wolf-whistled behind them, triggering an eye-roll from Hatori.

Soon after the ceremony wrapped up, Momiji got up, walking alongside Haru and Rin as they all made their way to the shore where the reception would be taking place.

As with the bright decorations from the ceremony, the same motif was used for the after-party. Frilly ribbons, lace, and flowers were spread around, covering almost every inch of the vicinity. Even on the shallow water by the shore floated various bright pink petals evenly dispersed throughout.

Momiji looked now at the sand-covered dance floor. Pulling his new wife to the middle, Ayame began a fast-paced salsa dance together with his beloved partner. Energetic Spanish music played in the surrounding speakers.

"Aren't they supposed to have a slower pace for their first dance?" Haru asked of nobody in particular. Yuki just happened to be walking up with his date, Machi Kuragi, and when he heard the question he smacked his forehead with his palm.

"Yeah, well, Nii-san never does anything that he's supposed to," he responded dryly. Then they all just stood there, watching the newly-married couple as they span around the dance floor.

"I do believe - " Yuki began " - that they choreographed this themselves. I think it took the better part of their two-year engagement to completely master it." The others nodded.

When Ayame and Mine's dance was over, everyone else was free to choose their own partner and join them on the dance floor.

Inevitably, Momiji was abandoned on the sidelines, sipping punch from a silly straw as he looked on at the dancers whirling by. Scanning the crowd of people, he recognized most of his family members, including fellow single-buddy Kagura. Much unlike him, she was enjoying herself by dancing around with various others, be them male or female, older or younger – she was just having a good time. Momiji realized that he would normally be the one stealing Tohru or even Kisa for a dance just to entertain himself, but the entire wedding event continuously reminded him of how lonely he was and it made him depressed.

He searched the moving crowd for Ayame and his vibrant red rose that for some reason gave him a strange sense of comfort and heart-thudding wonder. The image of red hair flushed his vision, the smell of roses wafting over him like before despite the distance between him and the groom. He was jerked out of his reverie by a tap on the shoulder.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, wide-eyed. He turned to face the real image of his friend Haru.

"You've been obsessed with that rose since you first laid eyes on it," he remarked, following Momiji's previous gaze. "I noticed it during the ceremony." Haru paused.

"And?" Momiji asked, wondering if his friend had anything else to add.

"Are you thinking of asking it to dance?" the ex-cow deadpanned. "Be careful, I heard it's a rather prickly partner." Momiji had to laugh in spite of himself at Haru's impassive remark.

"I guess I'd take anyone now," he admitted half-jokingly. Haru studied him for several seconds.

"Momiji...you really are lonely, huh?" he asked, his voice casual but his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, I suppose I am." The former rabbit ran a hand through his hair, a recent habit he seemed to have picked up. He let out a long sigh. "What's wrong with me, Haru? Everyone else seemed to pair off so easily after the curse. Heck, you and Hiro paired off during it, only now you don't have to be secretive about it. But me, why can't I let go of the past? Yes, I want to keep all of my memories, but I don't want them to weigh me down. Why can't I accept that the man she's dancing with right now isn't me?" Momiji's gaze flickered briefly in the direction of Tohru and Kyo as they awkwardly positioned themselves for a slow dance. Haru glanced at them as well, imagining the torment inside the heart of his friend to see the love of his life blushing and smiling with someone else.

"You're still jealous of Kyo and Tohru," Haru stated grimly after a moment of silence. Momiji inwardly winced.

"Maybe I'm just jealous of what they have."

"Oh, I'm sorry, that is what I meant." Momiji sighed again.

"It's still hard...getting over the fact that I'll never be anything more to her than a friend. No...a little brother, actually. It still hurts...to this day...that once again I can't be with someone I care so deeply about. That I can never be with them in the respective ways that I want to." Haru decided not to delve too much into the sensitive topic, so he redirected the conversation slightly.

"Then what's with the rose fascination?" Momiji smiled sheepishly.

"You'll laugh," he protested.

"I swear on Rin's grave that I will not laugh."

"Hey!" Rin shouted, coming up from behind them. "Don't make promises like that on my death!"

Momiji quickly answered to diffuse the situation. "I just kinda, umm, fantasized-" Unfortunately for the young man, Ayame just so happened to be passing by at that moment, and, as to be expected, as soon as he heard the word 'fantasized' he jumped.

"Oh my!" he exclaimed gleefully, his golden eyes brimming with interest. "What's this? Our little child Miji-san has finally had his first fantasy?" The seemingly 'grown man' squealed like a school girl. "Tell me, my boy – pour your heart out to me with your deepest desires and don't hold back, for I will put it upon myself to make your dreams come true! That is part of my occupation, don't you know."

Momiji opened his mouth to reply, brushing off Ayame's noisiness and the dramatic air of his implications. But he didn't get the chance to explain, for Mine was also there, having not left her husband's side since the ceremony.

"Ah, Aaya-kun, are we designing a new outfit for one of our best customers?" she asked, her eyes sparkling like the skirt of her dress.

"Yes, Mine, my sweet, our first outfit as married partners – it's so romantic! But alas, it is different this time, for now Miji-san has such a big heart full of adolescent dreams just crying to burst out! Oh my, he is very demanding; but you know, my love, we can do anything together to grant this boy's wishes!"

"You never offered to do anything like that for me..." Haru mumbled, earning a glare from Rin.

"Haru, what's going on?" asked a curious and slightly bewildered Yuki as he strode up to them again with Machi.

"Your brother's providing therapy for Momiji's sudden urges."

"Haru, shouldn't we help him?" Rin asked suddenly, eyes wide as she briefly listened in to Ayame chattering on about costumes.

"We should," Haru admitted. "But this is the best thing I've seen all day..."

"What about the wed-"

"What about you? Oh, then you're right, Rin. This is the second best thing I've seen all day, but you know, you can be so insecure sometimes." Haru reached out to 'comfort' his girlfriend with a hug, Rin's face growing red partially from embarrassment and partially from frustration.

"Miji-san, tell me," Ayame said now. "Tell me of your fascination with my rose, because Haru-san says you've been staring at it all day. Are you planning on giving it to a certain young lady? Or perhaps a certain older lady – I don't judge! Miji-san, I am only hear to fulfill your dreams! But you know, this really is a nice rose, but you have to freshly pick them like my dear sweet Mine has done today for mine. They need to maintain their rich colour."

"There's no one that I'm thinking of in particular," Momiji insisted with a flustered laugh. His words took several moments to properly digest in Ayame's brain, and when they did he stopped dead, his face turning childishly disappointed.

"Oh, aww, there really isn't? My dear Miji-san, it really is a shame with a handsome young boy like yourself being so alone in this world. But fear not! I shall offer your my Mine's rose as an object of entrusting your hopes into, because one day, I swear it, YOU SHALL FIND YOUR RED LOVER!"

"What a complete idiot..." groaned Yuki. Then it suddenly got very quiet as Ayame thrust the thorny flower from his pocket into the unprepared hands of Momiji. Having taken him by surprise, one of the thorns cut sharply into the blonde's index finger. Momiji pursed his lips, staring at the red liquid that seeped from his shallow wound.

"Oh dear!" Ayame cried, clutching the sides of his head with his own hands. "The blood of a broken heart!" Mine patted his arm in comfort as he sobbed.

"I believe you've given the boy enough tainted thoughts for one day, Ayame." The voice belonged to Hatori, who now decided to join the group with Mayuko's hand linked in his.

Ayame shot up like an obedient puppy. "Ah! Fear not, Miji-san, for Tori-san is a highly-skilled physician and shall save your bloodied fingers!" Hatori rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Come now, Momiji. I brought a first-aid kit along with me. Somehow I expected something like this to happen." He raised an eyebrow at Ayame, who was still standing straight with his hand in a salute on his forehead. The doctor shook his head, leading Momiji to a corner of the room where he'd left his suitcase.

Hatori opened up the case and pulled out the familiar white box. He got a cotton ball to dab a few droplets of alcohol on it, carefully rubbing it over Momiji's cut.

"Sorry if this stings a bit," he said. Momiji simply nodded. Soon the blood was cleared away, Hatori carefully wrapping a bandage around the finger. "It's nothing serious, so it should heal in a few days time." Momiji nodded again, remaining silent.

"I hope Ayame didn't horrify you too much. Like I said, he's an idiot but he means well." Momiji smiled.

"No, Ayame's fun. He kinda cheered me up a bit, actually. Also like you said, he kinda distracts you from everything with his ridiculousness."

"So you agree, he is ridiculous?" Momiji laughed. Hatori smiled. "Just remember, when he sounds the most serious he's actually at the height of his stupidity." The ex-rabbit giggled.

"Thanks, Ha'ri. I think my finger should be okay for now." As he turned to leave, Hatori rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You forgot this." In his hand, wrapped in tissue at the stem was the rose Ayame had given Momiji just moments earlier. Momiji opened his mouth to say something, but shut it and took the rose instead.

"Thanks again." Hatori nodded, and with that Momiji turned to go back to the party. He took a seat at the table where Haru and Rin sat.

"So you get a dance from her after all," commented Haru.

"Huh?" Momiji looked down at the rose. "Oh. Yeah." He smiled. "I think I might just feel a little better."

"The power of the prickles." Momiji laughed.

"Oh, Miji-san!" exclaimed Ayame, who had waited nearby while Hatori was fixing him up. He flipped his length of hair with one hand as he continued. "I see that Tori-san's delicate handiwork never fails. What a neat and precise bandage..." The former snake clucked his tongue. "And you still have the rose! Good, I want you to keep it."

"As an 'object of entrusting his hope into'?" Haru asked. Ayame beamed.

"Precisely!"

"Well, thank you, Ayame," Momiji told him. Ayame's grin intensified.

"It's no trouble at all! Oh, and..." His face got very serious as he lowered his voice. "If you ever need someone to discuss your fantasies in private..."

"I'll be sure to think of you," Momiji promised halfheartedly. Ayame grinned again, turning away to talk to Shigure who'd tapped him on the back, Momiji sinking into the other chair beside Haru.

"So you're actually keeping it?" Haru inquired. Momiji shrugged, twirling the rose around with the tips of his fingers.

"It's a really nice flower. And it's ironic how a romantic flower can make a lonely guy feel better." This time Haru shrugged.

"Eh," he said. "Besides that, are you just going to sit here all night?"

"Probably."

"Good, because Rin refuses to dance with me anymore." Rin narrowed her eyes at Haru.

"It was you who suddenly got hungry...even though I don't really care much for dancing either," she retorted.

"Thanks," Momiji said.

"Momiji," Rin started all of a sudden. The blonde looked at her curiously. "How...how are you doing...with your violin career and all? I mean, Haru told me that you wanted to be a musician and that you were advertising your performance around the city."

Momiji leaned back in his chair. "It's alright. I played at a restaurant that was struggling with finances. They were willing to pay me if it meant reeling in some customers due to my performance. I didn't get much, but that's fine with me if I can get some stage skills and possibly get people to mention me. They said they'll start paying me more after the large reception they received. I'm also to play at some high-end bar on Friday night. Apparently the owner heard about me and wanted me to play at his pub."

"So you're off to a reasonable start." Momiji nodded at Haru.

"It's not _that_ much, but at least I've got one solid reference. And...I think they liked me, Haru. I mean, they clapped for a while, and my back started hurting from bowing so much. That should be good, right?"

"Well, I'm no chiropractor..."

"No, I mean - " Momiji ran a hand over his face with a chuckle " - it's good that they were clapping a lot, right? Some of them came to me after the show to compliment me, although I was a little embarrassed, to tell you the truth."

"Then they must like you," Haru declared.

"I suppose..." Momiji smiled sheepishly.

The three of them sat there for the majority of the night, talking about this and that. Rin only really participated in their conversations when Haru would drag her into them, and also at times when she felt she had something to contribute. They also all listened politely to Hatori's best man toast to the bride and groom, as well as the other more humorous speeches that were made.

Momiji felt a little more relaxed not sitting alone, almost forgetting the couple that he frequently noticed dancing by the shore. He was perfectly content to just sit there and let time fly, reminiscing about old memories and good times.

**...**

"Goodbye!"

"Have fun!"

"Good luck on your honeymoon."

Many comments similar to these were jumbled together as the wedding guests crowded by the road to watch Ayame and Mine get into their limousine. When the reception had finished, Ayame and Mine had announced that they would be vacationing in Venice, Italy for their celebration of their marriage, and that their limo had arrived to escort them to the airport.

As the long black car drove out onto the road, Ayame and Mine's hands peeked out of their window to wave goodbye. A pale pink banner trailed behind them, boasting the words 'Just Married'. After the crowd had called out their last goodbyes, they quickly dispersed in their own preparations to leave.

"Tonight was pretty fun," Momiji said to Haru and Rin. "I'll see you guys at the estate tomorrow."

"Have a safe trip, Momiji," said Haru just as he was climbing into his car. As soon as he'd turned eighteen, Haru had bought himself a black sports car to get to wherever he needed to go. Rin, however, forbid him to drive if he showed any signs of turning black, for his own safety. Luckily, he was at the maximum on his white side, so there would be no trouble for then. Momiji himself had put off getting a license until he felt it was necessary.

"You too!" Momiji called before his friend shut the door. The former rabbit waved enthusiastically as they drove away, but all of a sudden he yawned.

"You must be exhausted, Momiji," Hatori commented as he joined the younger man by his car. "But I'll bet you still want to say goodbye to Tohru before she leaves."

Momiji felt an unusual pang of dread. Of course he wanted to see her once more just before she left and wouldn't see him again for a good couple of months, but he knew it would only leave him feeling empty and numb. Still, he knew he had to at least say goodbye.

Momiji put on his best smile, nodding to Hatori before bounding off with fake energy in the direction of her and Kyo's vehicle. It was a cheap, compact car, no doubt because of their lack of money, but knowing Tohru, she was probably still happy with it.

"Ah, Momiji-kun!" she greeted with her usual genuine smile. Kyo gave him a 'look' as he turned their key into the lock. Momiji half-smiled at him in turn.

"Hey Tohru! I came to see you guys off."

"Oh really?" Tohru beamed. "Well thank you! I'm sorry I didn't get much of a chance to speak with you." Tohru's eyes were truly apologetic. Momiji waved her off.

"It's fine, I had fun too." Suddenly, for once, Momiji was at a loss as to what he should say next. "Um," he coughed. "I hope you're getting by well."

"Oh, yes! I mean, we're definitely not rich but we still have food to put on the table. And we have each other, so, all is well." Little did she realize how much Momiji was struggling to conceal his pain at her words. It had faded relatively during the party, but, as he predicted, it increased maximally with his goodbye.

"That's good to hear!" he exclaimed with the last of his energy. "Well, anyways, I hope you get home all right. It was really nice seeing you again."

"Oh, it was nice to see you too!" she replied enthusiastically. Kyo tapped the window of their car as a signal for her to get going, so with a final wave, she got in. As they were driving away, she rolled down the passenger-side window and called, "See you at New Years!"

Momiji waved, watching their car as it rolled away out of sight. He could finally let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. As he walked over to Hatori's car where the doctor already sat with Mayuko, exhaustion sank in. The entire night with all of its faked happiness and letting everything out in between tired the poor young man. The moment he threw himself into the car he fell asleep.

**...**

When he awoke, there was a warm blanket over him and morning sunlight blinded him. He rubbed his eyes for a bit until they adjusted to the brightness, and when they did he jumped.

He was still inside Hatori's car, lying in the backseat with a rabbit-shaped pillow under his head that hadn't been there the previous night. He glanced blearily around for some answer, soon finding it in a note on the inside of the window. Momiji snatched it up to read the writing contained in it.

_Momiji,_

_You fell asleep in the car on the drive back to the estate. Seeing as you're no longer of the appropriate size to carry you coupled with the fact that you were in too deep of a sleep to wake you, I decided to let you sleep in the car. I hope you were comfortable; I brought a pillow and a blanket from your room for you. It's also summer, so I hope I was correct in assuming that you didn't need too much warmth? No need to worry, I checked to make sure that all of the doors were locked and rolled one of the windows down just slightly to give you enough air. And as you already know, the windows are also tinted, so you had the utmost privacy._

_ Hope you had a good night's sleep._

_- Hatori_

Momiji smiled as he read the note. Good to know that he was still being looked after, although he really should be getting his own place soon. He didn't want to be too much of a burden for his parental guardian much longer. He let the note fall onto the seat as he unlocked the door and stumbled outside.

With the emotional turmoil from the night before behind him, he felt very refreshed. There was a slight spring in his step as he went over to buzz in from the gates. He would probably be spending most of his time today practicing his violin and preparing more flyers for his performance. Momiji was betting on the fact that he shouldn't have another serious emotional occurrence until New Year's, which was quite a bit away from now. For now he would keep himself busy with budding his career.

_I better get started, then! _he thought, brightly skipping into Sohma grounds through the opened gate.

**Did ya get the 'off' part? It's okay if you didn't; it's not EXACTLY important. But remember to read and review! The next chapter could either take a long time or be up quickly, because I'm going away the Monday after the next for most of the week, so either I get it done before then or after. But if you review...:3**


	3. Chapter Three: Two Musicians Collide

**A/N: Here, as promised, is at last the third chapter of BBAM. Phew. It's been a rough week of writer's block, but I guess something got into me and I managed to finish this up all in one night yesterday. Now I'll make this short. Basically, you'll be meeting my OC now. Well, two of my OCs, but the main one's there.**

**The music subtly mentioned/directly mentioned in this chapter is in order of: Claude Debussy's _Claire de Lune_ and Vivaldi's first movement of _Spring_ from the _Four Seasons_. If you want you can listen to them while you read. *shrug***

**And also, thank you so much to my three main reviewers so far: Blue-Bird-11, 1 Hell of a Monster, and Haruhi Fujioka 11.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket, its characters, or any references to events that occurred in Fruits Basket. They all belong to Natsuki Takaya. I also don't own the above music compositions.**

**Chapter Three**

Resonating throughout a small two-bedroom apartment was the sound of an inflated orange ball bouncing lazily on the wooden floorboards. Its administrator lay sprawled across an old leather couch in the midst of the room, her tired eyes flickering up at a clock on the wall every handful of seconds.

The young woman could tell from the gloom that it was late in the evening. She hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in her laziness and wasn't planning on doing it anytime soon anyways. It was a fairly calm night, the slight wind whistling against the nearby window. Other than the sound of the weather, it was eerily silent. Only the sounds of her treasured ball battering on the floor and the whirring of the water cooler a meter from her head disturbed the otherwise completely dead air.

To hear shuffling footsteps emerging from the bathroom just then startled the woman out of her bland reverie, her basketball slipping away from her precise fingertips and rolling away across the carpet.

She sat up with more focus now, glancing up at the person stepping out of the adjacent room. She surveyed the other person, obviously familiar with her presence. Yes, it was another woman, presumably the former's roommate. She was clad in a simple black spaghetti-strap dress that didn't quite show much personality; classy, but very plain. Luckily, the dressed up girl's roommate was hardly one to criticize appearance, for she herself was dressed down in slacks and a sweatshirt.

"Not bad," she commented. "But won't you be cold like that?"

"Maybe a little because of the wind, but it is summer," the other woman replied.

"Oh, is it? Man, I can barely keep track of these things..." The latter speaker's roommate shrugged, going over to the entrance of the apartment to slip on a pair of velvet flat shoes.

"Say, where are you going tonight, anyway?" asked the woman on the couch. "Another restaurant? A cafe? A street corner?" The woman in the dress bit her lip.

"No," she said quietly.

"Then where?" The woman in slacks wasn't particularly concerned at first, flipping on the television in front of her as she settled back into a laying position on the couch. Her roommate said nothing in response.

"Zo?" Mildly concerned now, Zo's roommate muted the volume on their TV set.

"It's not important, Fuji," Zo said hurriedly, fumbling for her keys on the door hook. Fuji stood up abruptly.

"Zo, where are you going?" she insisted, enunciating each word sharply.

"It's just a...little bar a couple of blocks down," Zo replied quickly, reaching for the door handle.

"A bar?" Fuji exclaimed, eyes widened in shock. "Why are you playing at a bar, in front of a bunch of drunken idiots who don't know how they're getting home tonight, let alone a good musician when they hear one?" Zo winced at her friend's tone, turning away from the door to face her.

"It's supposed to be a pretty high-end place. When the owner called me up, he said he wanted to introduce an even more 'classy atmosphere' to his bar."

"If he wanted to make his bar classy, he could'a just gotten his customers some porcelain puke bowls."

"He's paying me, Fuji," Zo pleaded. "If I go through with this, I'll be able to pay off my half of the rent I'm due for." Fuji sighed, plopping back onto the couch.

"You're smart, Zo, but you don't have a lot of street cred. Hell, you don't have _any_ street cred. You might get hurt."

"I'm fine," Zo insisted. "Don't worry about me. I'm clumsy but I can take care of myself." Her roommate looked doubtful, but then she heaved another long sigh.

"I hope so," she said. "Take your cellphone, though. Call me when you're finished or if you get into a difficult bind." She tossed a cellphone to Zo that was sitting beside her on the couch. The fact that her friend failed to catch it made Fuji laugh. "'I can take care of myself', she says," she mocked in a high-pitched voice. Zo glared at her, but could not contain her sheepish smile.

"I should be done by around 10, so I'll call you then." Zo kneeled over to pick up the fallen cellphone, slipping it into her dress pocket. With a murmured goodbye, she was gone with a silent slam of the door.

Fuji slumped into her seat the moment her friend left. _That girl's gonna lose her head one day...and what if no one's there to help her screw it back on?_

**...**

Above the bustling streets outside was a clear and starry night, the fluorescent lights of the city complimenting the night sky magnificently. Momiji Sohma practically bounced with anticipation as he made his way down the sidewalk, carrying his violin in its case with ease.

It was finally Friday night, and he was ready to give those bar patrons a show that (despite their intoxication) they would never forget. He hummed along to an infectious tune he'd heard on the radio lately, receiving a few odd looks from passersby. But he hadn't a care in the world as he swung his case about. The wind rustling through his wavy golden locks eased any absentminded worries he had about his performance. He found himself in a state of total bliss that he'd only gotten a glimpse of during the wedding last week, and now he was getting it all back.

But thinking of the wedding brought his morale down significantly. Momiji didn't want to think of Tohru Honda in her pretty little sundress, practically glowing with her love for another man. He didn't want to remember the way she smiled at him like a mother to her son, or a sister to her younger brother. He wanted to forget. Although at the same time, he didn't.

Momiji stubbornly tried to let those thoughts fade from his mind. He realized that he'd suddenly slowed his pace, staring glumly down at the concrete on which he stepped. He put up his front of exterior happiness again, smiling a little too widely and skipping with a little too much energy.

Completely lost in his struggle to forge a chipper demeanor and unaware of his surroundings, it was inevitable that he soon collided with an unfortunate individual passing by. The resounding thud was enough to break him out of his daze.

"Ah! Es tut mir leid!" he exclaimed, reverting to his second language. His violin case had stricken a poor young lady in the face. Momiji mentally scolded himself for being so careless.

"Uh...huh?" the woman stammered. Momiji realized that what he said probably hadn't registered with her.

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "That's my fault. I meant I'm sor-" His voice trailed off as he suddenly noticed something about the person he'd stumbled into.

Clear as the night sky above them, glowing a silver tint of its original colour in the twilight on top of the woman's head were brilliant waves of vivid, rose-coloured hair. Her slight curls framed a pale and delicate face, flowing down past her shoulders, a stark contrast to her set of pale blue eyes. She was of average height, only a head shorter than Momiji, however her skinny, delicate physique made her look frail, as though the slightest breeze would knock her off of her feet. She seemed to shiver in her simple black dress, her hands rubbing her arms as means of warmth. It was strange – she carried nothing. No purse, no suitcase, and yet she was out here in the city as though she had things to do.

Momiji suddenly widened his eyes. The woman was clutching her reddening nose, cringing. The young man finally shook his head to repeat his apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't really watch where I was going."

"N-no! It's fine, really!" the redhead stuttered. "I was the one who should have been paying attention..." Her voice seemed to trail off ominously, her eyes subtly betraying a deeper meaning that did not appear to involve the young man standing in front of her. Momiji gave her a curious look, but she said nothing else. They were silent for a couple of moments.

"Well," - she began - "I should get going." She hurriedly stepped around him to go in through the entrance to a bar. And with a click of the shutting door, she was gone.

"That was...interesting..." Momiji thought aloud. Then he realized that the woman had entered the same place that he was supposed to be headed, so he shook his head and went inside.

His brown eyes were greeted by a flurry of dancing artificial colours, illuminating the floor, walls, ceiling – _everything_. They were the only lights to guide his sight around the large, dim area. There were lots of people flourishing in the tavern, all dressed in the classy-but-not style of clothing. Laughter and slurred conversations accompanied by the blaring mainstream music nearly deafened the poor half-German-half-Japanese.

He covered his ears in an attempt to focus on where he was supposed to be, searching the crowd for the manager. He spotted a man in an official apron behind the bar counter, amiably conversing with the young redheaded woman Momiji had stumbled into moments before. The blonde bounded over cheerfully, his violin case swinging around in his grip once more.

When he reached them, he made sure to snatch up his case securely in his arms. He certainly did not want a repeat of the earlier incident. The other two adults turned to him, the woman turning rather flushed.

"Ah, you must be Momiji Sohma," the middle-aged man greeted in a welcoming manner. "My name is Kenshin Asanuma, but I guess you can call me Ken. Everyone here calls me that, anyway."

Momiji bowed. "It's nice to meet you, Ken-san. You can just call me Momiji." As he bowed, the former rabbit locked eyes with the redhead on the stool.

"Oh, there is no need for formalities here," Kenshin replied sheepishly. He noticed the two younger people glancing at each other, so he gestured towards the woman in front of him. "Momiji, this is Zo Kitagana. Zo, as you've heard, this is Momiji."

Momiji smiled brightly at the woman, holding his hand out to shake hers. She carefully obliged, her small white fingers cold in the warm grasp of his. Her face remained neutral even with the young man's cheerful disposition, however it seemed to be mostly due to shyness. After several seconds her hand numbly went loose, so Momiji released his grip.

Sensing the awkwardness in the air, the bartender cleared his throat. "Thank you both for coming tonight. Now, this is just a, uh...test run, of sorts. So you go up there, play one song or whatever, then if the crowd likes it you can come back next week to give 'em more."

The two of them nodded, Zo biting her lip as though she had something to say but restrained herself from it.

"Okay then. Zo, you're up first," Ken told her. The young lady dipped her head in acknowledgement. She reached into her pocket for a black elastic band, gathering together her long strands of crimson hair tightly at the back of her head in a ponytail, keeping it set there by twisting the elastic around at the root. A single lonely strand had managed to escape the order of the band, however Zo hardly seemed bothered by it as she headed off to the stairwell by the stage.

Momiji looked now to what was on the stage. As he'd noticed before, Zo hadn't had anything with her besides the clothes on her back. Now he knew why. In the midst of a black marble flooring reserved solely for the little stage sat a marvellous grand piano. Its ebony coating gleamed in the neon lights of the pub, so out of place in its modern surroundings but still beautiful nevertheless.

As Momiji watched the redhead clumsily make her way up the steps, he wondered how she would be able to make an impression up on the stage. Music required exact assertiveness, and besides the woman's obvious clumsiness she appeared to be distracted by something very troubling. Her eyes were downcast like a person that had experienced great sadness in their life. Her deathly thin figure reminded Momiji again how fragile she must be. Her head hung low as if in defeat. She didn't even try to pretend that she was happy. Momiji suspected that it was simply because she couldn't.

Zo shuffled across the marble floor to her instrument. She rested a hand on its cover as though it were a figure of support, cautiously settling herself on the rectangular stool before it. It was at this time that Momiji noticed a subdued silence sweeping over the room. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as Zo stared at the ivory keys, her eyes holding no emotion, but it was almost like she were greeting a long-lost friend. At last she placed her fingers gently over a specific cluster of keys, and she played.

Momiji had some trouble placing the name of the piece, however he did recognize it. It started off as gentle, soothing, somewhat hesitant but still surely present. The string of notes were coupled together to sound like a lullaby, something one might hear as a toddler if they had a loving enough parent. The kind of care Momiji never got to experience himself. He listened with a sense of melancholy, a hint of nostalgia for something that had never occurred to him specifically.

And he not only listened, but he watched. There was something interesting about the way Zo played her instrument. It was as if the deeply rooted sadness in her soul were being released with the sound of this mellifluous music. She played with such grace and freedom, and yet with such focus. As far as Momiji could tell, she didn't rely on any sheet music. She played this familiar piece with the air of someone who had remembered it for so long that it was permanently written into their heart.

Her neutral face had vanished as soon as she'd gotten her hands on the black-and-white keys of the piano. She looked so relaxed, almost relieved, as though the music had finally discovered her broken soul. It had been quite some time since a stranger had touched Momiji's heart, but never before had someone done it with the very thing he dedicated his life to: music. Zo needed not words; only this lovely instrument to portray her emotions and reach out to the crowd. To say that Momiji was impressed would have been a crude understatement.

There was not a doubt in Momiji's mind now that Zo knew what she was doing. She played this difficult piece with such ease, it sent everyone in the bar – yes, even the few who were drunk off their asses – into a state of utter silence.

When she finished on the last note, the silent spell broke immediately as everyone applauded and cheered, clinking glasses together, hollering out their praises. By the time she was off the stage her face had gone from white to a shade brighter than the colour of her hair in a matter of seconds. Momiji beamed at her as she passed, dipping her head in acknowledgement. It didn't take long for the distraction of her performance to cease, the light once again fading from her eyes.

Momiji frowned. _She just needs a little more music to cheer her up,_ he thought optimistically. He hurried up onto the stage with his violin and bow dangling from his hands in tow. His audience was once again occupied by chattering amongst themselves, not paying much attention to him. He caught the eyes of several women in the audience, but overall the alcohol must have been making the rest of the crowd rather loopy.

_Hmmm...maybe this'll grab their attention!_ he thought as he lifted his bow. The moment he began the noise level of the crowd hushed to quiet murmurings. The piece he played was the lively and ever-popular first movement of 'Spring', composed by Antonio Vivaldi hundreds of years ago. As he was not an entire string quartet, he'd practiced simply playing the main tune that one would hear when listening to this particular composition.

People in the bar raised their glasses for his performance. With his energy, it was almost as if he _were_ an entire orchestra. His trills were highly effective and all, but the emotion he portrayed with his instrument deserved high marks.

Momiji found himself searching the crowd for Zo, to take a peak at her reaction. He saw her standing at the entrance of the bar facing him, and holding back a frown he realized that she was staring blankly back up at him. Her expression was one of confusion, thoroughly puzzling the blonde violinist. Those pale blue eyes bore into him as though they were scanning for something besides the obvious. Something about his performance seemed to befuddle her.

Momiji averted his gaze from the redhead and continued to focus on his instrument. The notes flowed naturally from his fingertips as though he were born knowing them. Thinking back, he'd probably practiced this piece at least a thousand times over; perfecting the trills and the timing took a lot of effort. But he never grew tired of it. He thought that this must be what it feels like, to be doing something you really love that no matter how repetitive it might become over time, you will continue to enjoy it every minute of your time with it.

The blonde forced springing thoughts of Tohru to the back of his head, realizing the connection between this metaphor. If he'd gotten the chance, he also would have never grown tired of being in love with her. He'd be gone for a day, see her face by the afternoon and fall in love all over again. It was true that anything that had captured Momiji's heart took its toll when it was time for him to part from it. Knowing this, he gripped the bow of his violin all the more tighter. After everything he had lost, no one was going to take his music away from him. Not on their life.

Momiji was eager to find that he had reached the last note of the first movement, and met with a roar of applause. He took several bows, clutching his stringed instrument protectively against his chest. He absently wondered if his depression was triggering this exaggerated paranoia, but at the surface he didn't bother to delve into it.

He slightly loosened his grip as he made his way over to Kenshin, blinking warily at a few hard claps on his back as he passed through the crowd. The manager grinned widely at him, waving around a 'thumbs-up!' on each hand. Momiji smiled back carefully.

"How was I?" he asked.

"Man, you were great!" Kenshin exclaimed, patting him roughly on the back as well. Obliviously to the older man, Momiji felt a little shaken by it. "This was a great test run! And that girl – Kitagana-san – she was good too, don'tcha think?" Momiji nodded. "Great talent I see in you both. Hey, where is that little redhead anyways?" Momiji glanced around the room, specifically to where Zo had been standing by the entrance, but all he caught was a wisp of rose-red hair passing through the slowly-shutting door. He frowned.

"I think she just left."

"Aw, that's a shame. Well, I'm sure I still have her number around here. If not, I'll just look her name up in the phone book again. I think I'll call you both back, actually, and next time you'll get to play some more. Say...next Friday?"

"Okay, thanks Ken-san!" Momiji beamed. He turned to go, however the manager hadn't finished speaking with him.

"Eh, no problem!" he said. Momiji awkwardly turned back. "That thing you played just now, I think that was a great background for a bunch of old friends hanging out for a beer and sharing good times."

Momiji actually felt that the composition was more aimed towards giving people a feel of its namesake title, _spring_, but he was not one to criticize a person's view on music, for it always meant something different for each individual that appreciated it.

The half-German stood there for a while, waiting for further banter on the bartender's side. Instead the man just sucked in a breath through his teeth and said:

"Well, you can go now. What're you standing around for, boy? Directions?" He slapped a hand over Momiji's back again. Momiji laughed halfheartedly and left.

The violinist cradled his instrument in his arms as he stepped out into the darkness outside. He had to blink a couple of times while his eyes adjusted to the sharp contrast in lighting. Going through the motions of the walk back to the main house, he let his mind wander into the thoughts he'd kept at bay during the evening, specifically concerning a certain redhead.

The fact that she'd left so quickly with not a word of goodbye was rather odd. Momiji had noticed her reserved and socially inept behaviour since the moment he first bumped into her, however to walk out without any implication of where she was headed, when she would be back – any casual remark whatsoever – even just to Kenshin was not simply odd, but slightly peculiar.

Momiji himself had toyed with the thought of having a friendly conversation between musicians after his performance, to get some feedback, advice, constructive criticism – whatever she had in that musical brain of hers to offer. He wanted to ask about her choice in the path of music, when she knew that that was her calling, and, more importantly, _why_ she constantly had that look of displacement in the world around her, _why_ she seemed to act as though at any moment her life would end. Why she seemed so sad and unsettled...

But to ask a stranger such a personal question was something Momiji knew all too well not to do. He had his own dark clouds rotating around his head of his past and present thoughts. He understood that there were some things that one just didn't talk about very easily with other people. Momiji used to have someone he could talk to about such things. However now that person was a one of the reasons for his dark, lonely times, and not only that but she was far away. So in all, perhaps Momiji simply wondered if Zo might be in need of such a person that she could share her pains with.

All of that, however, was out of the question at this point in their relationship. Quite frankly, they hardly had a relationship to begin with. And with Zo's inclination to shy away from other people, Momiji doubted that they ever would in the short time that they'd have in each others presence. So for now, he shrugged it off, focusing on the erratic flitting images of the bustling late-night city around him, losing himself in the familiar sights and letting his mind float.

But even as he allowed himself to forget, he did prove to be correct on the Zo front.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Momiji would practice his violin for the show that would occur every Friday night at around seven o'clock. He would sit back as the now-familiar sight of the redheaded pianist would play her share, still watching and listening as he'd done before. And each time she would enter her state of true peace, drifting in and out of her own little world as each piece she performed began and ended. Once her time was over, her face would remold into that usual, natural mask of sadness, ever the picture of despair. Momiji would try to speak with her just a little, congratulating her on her performance, but she would always pass him and nod, stiffly refusing his open act of kindness.

But when it was Momiji's turn to play, she would wait. She always stood there by the entrance, seemingly prepared to leave at any moment but one foot rooted to the spot, standing there, staring up at the handsome blonde sharing his heart up on stage the same as she had. Momiji would spare fleeting glances in her direction, but unlike the first time she seemed to be a little more relaxed than confused. Once he swore he even caught the hints of a smile.

Unfortunately, around the end or at the end of Momiji's part the mystic redhead would always depart, never giving him the time or opportunity to go over and strike up a conversation with her. Or, at this point, demand one.

And usually after a frustrating night of attempts, Momiji would share his thoughts with his friend Haru or father-figure Hatori the very next day.

"She's so...baffling," he said to Haru once.

"Baffling..." Haru repeated in his usual monotone voice. To any normal person he'd sound bored and uninterested, but Momiji knew since long ago that he was actually quite the listener. In replacement of Tohru, though he could never exactly fulfill her kind shoes, Haru was Momiji's second-best bet. Or third-best, if you counted Hatori.

"I know she wants to talk. She looks like she wants to talk, but she never does. She's afraid of other people. I know she has _something_ that she wants to say."

"You've never sounded so frustrated before, Momiji," Haru commented, slightly cocking an eyebrow at his friend. "It's not like you."

"I don't know...she's different. There are so many things that I'd like to talk about with her, but she never gives me the chance. She's a great musician, and I bet she could give me a lot of advice, but she's kind of...mysterious."

"Are you sure that's all you want to talk about with her?" Haru asked for the hell of it. Momiji pursed his lips curiously in response.

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Have you tried going after her?"

"Yeah, but Kenshin likes to talk to me after the show."

"Ah, so it's the annoying bartender conundrum," Haru mused. Momiji didn't quite understand where Haru had gotten the reference from, but he shook his head insistingly.

"Kenshin's fun to talk with. He's got a good sense of humour. I don't mind him, but whenever I leave the bar there's no trace of Zo in sight."

"Well, asking where she lives is probably out of the question..." Momiji's eyes widened at Haru's actual consideration of such an intrusion, but then again, he _was_ talking to Hatsuharu Sohma...

When asking Hatori, the wise doctor usually had more reasonable advice to offer.

"Have you tried speaking with her before the show?"

"I have a couple of times, but then, Ken-san really is a talkative bartender...it's hard to talk to her alone, and talking to her with Ken-san around is a little awkward."

"How do Zo's conversations with Asanuma-san usually go?"

"He...talks to her, and she...stands there and nods. Now that I think about it, I've never actually heard her talk...well, under normal circumstances, anyway." Momiji sheepishly remembered that time when he'd unceremoniously stumbled into her. He didn't remember much of how she'd sounded, however, but he did recall that her voice was understandably nervous and shaky at the time.

Hatori raised an eyebrow at the younger man when he offered no spoken explanation, but Hatori wasn't one to pry.

"I see," the doctor said instead. "Perhaps you shouldn't center too much around how you will go about speaking with this woman, but rather allow fate to run its course. One day you might find yourself having a conversation with her in a completely unpredictable situation, but speaking with her nonetheless. Sometimes you just can't force or rush things. Just know that a day might come when you are at last presented with the opportunity, know that the time is right, and take it."

"And if I'm not?" Momiji asked quietly.

Hatori looked at him for what seemed like a long time. Then his gaze landed back on the book in his lap, his mouth shut without a reply. Momiji understood what he meant without any words: he would never know.

However it was one typical Friday night that Momiji would find to differ from the rest. It was the end of his performance and he was packing up his violin securely away in its case. Zo had left a good number of minutes ago – or a bad number, depending on your perspective. The violinist felt weighed down with the exhaustion aching in his arms and callused fingers. He was done for the night.

Not in the mood for after-show chit-chat, he managed to avoid Kenshin by hurrying out the door with a quick goodbye, leaving behind what would have been an endless round of one-sided conversation.

As Momiji exited the bar, his foot landed in a large grimy puddle on the sidewalk. Rain cascaded over the edge of the pub's slanted roof, drenching him with water, loose dried tar and grit. A couple of hours ago the sky had been clear and unobstructed, so of course Momiji hadn't thought to come prepared for this brand of weather. Unfortunately for him, all he had on hand was his small black violin case to hold over his head in a meek attempt to shield it from the downpour.

_I guess I'll be taking the bus home, _Momiji thought as he started to sprint down the street. The rain made quick work of his clothes, and by the time he found his saviour in a compact plastic-covered bus stop a couple of meters down the road he was already soaked to the bone.

Momiji had to duck his head as he stepped inside, panting from the quick exertion and wringing out the hem of his soaked white dress shirt. The last time he ran like that was when he used to play Cops and Robbers in high school. He'd won a lot of those games due to his advantage in endurance – he _was_ born under the curse of the rabbit after all.

As he dragged a hand through his wet blonde hair, it suddenly dawned on him that he was not the sole occupant of this tiny bus shelter. He nearly leaped out of his skin right then and there.

Pale eyes stared out at him from the gloom, startled by his bursting entrance. Rain-sodden hair turned its colour into a dark auburn, loosening slightly from its usual tight ponytail. That characteristic skinny figure huddled into its perch on the left side of the bench. There, right before his eyes unmistakably sat one Zo Kitagana.

**A/N: Bit of a cliff-hanger there - sorry. :P But I think that the cliff-hanger will make me myself eager to write more, and maybe, _just_ maybe, I'll have the fourth chapter done by next weekend.**

**Hope you enjoyed and remember to review! You might get the fourth chapter done faster if you do. ^.^**


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